The Fate of Anatoly Zhukov
by USAFChief
Summary: One shot dealing with a point of time for Jethro and Jenny that sent them on a fateful journey.


Disclaimer: The characters herein are not mine, they belong to Don Bellisario and CBS. I'm not making a red cent from this story.

A/N: I've often wondered how closely the lives of Svetlana Chernitskaya and Anatoly Zhukov mirrored those of Jenny Shepard and Jethro Gibbs. This is one perspective, with a little acknowledgement that sometimes destiny or fate seems to send us down a path that we would just as soon not travel.

Spoilers: Judgement Day and before.

* * *

><p>Anatoly Zhukov<p>

Anatoly watched Svetlana walk away from him across the Pont des Arts, her blond hair swirling the early evening breeze. He enjoyed watching her walk. The length of her stride and her upright carriage fascinated him. The fact that he loved her deeply also had something to do with it. After their years together she still drew his attention, especially her walk. He retreated a little further into the shadows beginning to surround him, but saw Svetlana pause in the middle of the bridge. She had showed him the engraved padlock that she purchased specifically to lock onto the fence that kept children and dogs from falling into the Seine below. It had their names engraved on one side and on the other the phrase _sic erat in fatis_. She attached it to the fence and resumed her walk back to the flat. As she disappeared from his sight, he settled in to wait for The American to appear…The American he was going to kill.

The patterns of his prey often contributed to his ability to kill them easily, and The American had an established pattern. His employer told Anatoly that The American came down this street every evening on his way to the café. Often he was accompanied by a woman with red hair, but not always. Anatoly was prepared to kill them both if necessary, but The American, Gibbs, was his primary target and the one who would certainly die tonight. As he waited, his mind's eye went back to the image of Svetlana walking away, and he smiled. He began to be impatient to see her again, to hold her closely and smell the rose shampoo she used to wash her hair. He lit a cigarette and cupped it in his hand, shuffling his feet slightly to ease his stance. The darkness deepened. He reached up to settle the hat a little closer on his head. Through the noises of the city, he heard footsteps approaching and leaned forward to see whether it was The American. At that moment he met his fate and ceased to exist.

* * *

><p>Leroy Jethro Gibbs<p>

Gibbs preferred a rifle for sniping. He was not able to use one for this assignment. He'd had to travel the streets of Paris to get to his "hide." He was able to carry the nine millimeter pistol in a holster at the small of his back and the silencer had been in his jacket pocket. When he arrived at the selected position to stake out his quarry, he assembled the silencer onto the pistol. He and Jen had both been practicing daily with their pistols. The muscle memory of lining the sight picture onto the target and squeezing the trigger was implanted in both of them. They had spent long hours and many rounds of ammunition making certain they could hit their targets.

Gibbs had been in place for over half an hour when Anatoly and Svetlana came into sight. He watched them speak quietly for a few minutes. They embraced and placed their lips together in what he supposed was a tender kiss. He knew she walked away across the Pont des Arts, but he never lost sight of Anatoly. Gibbs needed a little more darkness, a little less foot traffic on the street and a clear line of sight. He was just over twenty feet away from him when Anatoly moved back into the shadows. Gibbs had learned patience in the jungles of Panama and the barren hills of Iraq. It had once taken him two days to move less than a hundred yards to position himself for a kill shot. He knew how to be patient. He saw that Anatoly was beginning to fidget. He averted his eyes when Anatoly lit the cigarette – didn't want to lose his night vision. The plan called for a decoy to walk down the street at the time that Gibbs had walked it for the past several days, and Gibbs heard the footsteps before he saw the Pacci from his peripheral vision. He saw Zhukov straighten his hat and lean forward to see who was coming. As Zhukov leaned forward his face came into the light. Gibbs did not hesitate. He found his sight picture and pulled the trigger to send the nine millimeter bullet into the forehead of Anatoly Zhukov – and to seal his own destiny of sadness and regret.

* * *

><p>Jenny Shepard<p>

Jenny was determined. She had spent long hours dry firing her Sig Sauer .380. Then she spent even more hours pouring ammo through the pistol at the firing range, perfecting her marksmanship. She practiced on targets at a distance of six feet for what seemed to her like days. When Jethro had originally set the target at six feet she was insulted and said, "I could beat her to death with the gun from this close, Jethro." Jethro gave her his usual smirk and kept the target right where it was. "Practice makes perfect," was all he said. Jethro had her practice shooting from six feet, ten feet, fifteen feet and twenty-five feet until she felt like she could hit the target in the dark. She became very proficient, hitting where she aimed with almost every shot. When she got very tired and lost concentration she would find herself jerking the trigger instead of squeezing it, but that only happened rarely after so much practice. She knew all the practice would pay off. Today she would kill Svetlana Chernitskaya, Anatoly Zhukov's handler.

Jenny was calm. She was standing just inside an alley that Svetlana had to pass to enter the flat that she shared with Anatoly Zhukov. The plan that Decker laid out was to separate and conquer – Gibbs would kill Zhukov and Jenny would kill Chernitskaya. She had seen death, even violent death, but she had never killed anyone. She knew she was as well prepared as Gibbs and Decker could get her. She waited, seeing in her mind's eye just how she would pull the pistol from her bag, raise it and put at least three shots into the center body mass that was her target.

Jenny heard Svetlana's pumps clattering on the cobblestones as she came toward their meeting. Her heart began to pound. She reached into the bag and put her hand around the pistol grip. She removed the gun and held it at her side – her breath was coming is gasps. Svetlana appeared in her vision and sensed a presence in the alley. She looked at Jenny, eyes wide. Svetlana stopped and continued to look directly into Jenny's green eyes. Somehow Jenny could not move. She stopped breathing. She was transfixed by the blond woman's stare. She tried to raise the pistol to firing position but could not. Svetlana stood a moment longer, then with a sneer she moved on passed the alley and into the entrance to her flat.

Jenny began to tremble as she shoved the gun back into her bag. She was breathing again, pulling the air into her lungs in great gasps. She suddenly turned into the alley and vomited up what was left of her late lunch. Now she was cold all over and trembling violently. She had to move…report to Decker and Gibbs. Oh, God, what would she say to Gibbs? Then she knew she would say nothing to Gibbs. Decker would cover for her when she explained to him that she had frozen. She stumbled away from the alley, her fate written in those few moments.

* * *

><p>Svetlana Chernitskaya<p>

Svetlana had enjoyed the process of finding a lock to hang on the fence at Pont des Arts. She had searched through various little shops in the back streets of the area where she and Anatoly kept their flat until she found just the right one. It was fairly large and had external rivets that gave it a look of being able to hold anything. She had to go to a jewelery shop to get the engraving done. She had felt a deep contentment pass through her as she snapped the lock shut and tossed the keys into the Seine. She and Anatoly agreed they would use this means to declare their love to the world – with the knowledge that they were fated to be together during this life as they knew they were before and would be again.

Svetlana was content with her love life, but was concerned that Anatoly was laying in wait for Gibbs this evening. During her study of Anatoly's target, she'd determined him to be a formidable opponent. She warned Anatoly to not take him lightly – to be ready for all contingencies. After all, good preparation was essential to completing all tasks successfully. They made a good team, she and Anatoly. Friends, lovers and business partners. She knew no plan was foolproof, but the plan to kill Gibbs was the best the two of them could devise and it would pay for another six months in Paris.

As she walked toward the flat, she was looking forward to having a small meal with Anatoly before an evening of love making. She was passing the alley next to their flat when a flicker of movement caught her attention. She glanced into the alley and immediately recognized Gibbs female partner…and she had a gun in her hand. Svetlana was terrified but refused to let the red head see her fear. She directed a gaze of complete hatred into the other woman's eyes. "Kill me if you can," she said in her mind. She could see the hesitation in the other woman. The terror of taking a life filled the American woman's eyes and froze her body in an awkward position. Svetlana could have killed the woman easily, as frozen in place as she was, but Svetlana was not armed today. She gave the American one last look of utter contempt, sneered at her and walked on to their flat. She felt no fear now, her terror was gone. She was quite simply furious that she had been a target and that she had walked into such an easy trap.

She was inside the apartment when she felt Anatoly die. His death sent a shockwave of pain throughout her body. She dropped, her knees making a loud cracking noise as they hit the hard floor. Her hands were holding her head, trying to keep it from flying into a thousand pieces. She had not heard a gunshot, but she knew with all her being that Anatoly was dead. Her lover had been killed. The man that brought joy to her life was gone. She would die, too. A little more each day. But she had a thing she had to do before she could die. She would find Gibbs…track him down like a rapid dog and kill him and avenge her Anatoly. "So it was fated, so will it be done," she thought. "It will be done!"


End file.
